


won't look back and say goodbye

by astralscrivener



Series: abc's of klance [13]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Established Keith/Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:08:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24611299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralscrivener/pseuds/astralscrivener
Summary: m is for mercy.“…I’ve done extensive research on the Paladins,” the soldier said. “I’ve managed to gain an insider’s perspective, and I know that this one is underutilized in battle. Not only is he a tactician, but he carries with him most of the team’s secrets. In using him, we may be able to both taunt Team Voltron into a confrontation and acquire everything we need to know.”Well, that was certainly a lot to pick through, and with his vision still a little unclear and head still foggy, Lance’s priorities went straight tounderutilized in battleandtactician.“So, you think I’m smart, huh?”His filter was also a little broken.The last thing Lance expected upon being captured by the Galra was a random soldier arguing to save his life.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: abc's of klance [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/960195
Comments: 28
Kudos: 195





	won't look back and say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> _title from **not afraid to die** by written by wolves, which is not the first time i have used this songs lyrics for a title. the more ya know!_
> 
> well it's been a hot...uh...6 months or so since i added to this series, and it STILL comes before i update [soopits](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15900732/chapters/37059441), which i am still working on, college is just kicking my ass
> 
> thank you to my darling [nicole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeneevee/works) for beta'ing/editing this, please check their work out bc they are a fantastic writer <3
> 
> **trigger warnings for threats of violence, some canon-typical violence, talk of death, y'know the usual stuff**

**.:mercy:.**

If they were going to take Lance hostage, they could have been a little nicer about it.

The scraping of his armor against the metal floors of the prison ship had been grating on his ears for a good five minutes now, and it was no reprieve from the pain shooting through his arms as he was dragged along between two Galra soldiers. He was fairly certain one arm was dislocated at least partially, and the rough pulling wasn’t helping in the least.

_Is that the arm they saw me shooting with?_ Lance wondered, then, if they knew he was ambidextrous.

So went the flow of his thoughts, latching onto one thing and then the next in an endless stream, the only way to keep his head above the water, above the waves of dizzying pain that crashed down on him every couple minutes.

He prided himself on being a strong swimmer.

With his consciousness fading in and out, the rest of the journey to the bridge passed in what seemed to Lance to be a matter of seconds.

Then every sense snapped awake when he was unceremoniously hoisted up and thrown back to the ground in a heap of aching limbs.

Hands cuffed, he couldn’t catch himself, but his helmet saved him from a concussion as he hit the floor with a grunt, landing at the feet of someone or other. The commander Team Voltron had been fighting half an hour ago, probably.

“Well, what have we here?”

“Oh, _cut_ the creepy shit,” Lance groaned, rolling over before the commander could nudge him with his foot. He made it to his knees before the commander’s heel promptly smashed into the top of his helmet, sending him falling back on his ass.

Before he could sit up, that same foot came down again against his chest, pinning Lance to the floor.

“Real hospitable,” Lance muttered, narrowing his eyes.

He stared up at one of the other Galra soldiers, and they sneered down from where they towered over him. They didn’t deign to answer, but they studied him, probably trying to decide how to deal with him, drawing their massive blasters from where they hung on their belts. The blasters were double-barreled with various settings changed by a dial on the side, as far as Lance could tell as he squinted, interfaced with his helmet, zoomed in…

_Hm._ So they had electrical properties—the voltage was turned all the way up, dials resting on a setting labeled _lethal_ rather than _stunning_.

_Nice._

“So you’re just gonna kill me without giving me the chance to fight back, is that it?” Lance asked, sighing and letting his head rest against the floor. “For people who pride themselves on excelling in combat, you sure don’t like to engage in it.”

The commander—if Lance recalled correctly, his name was Nollix, which in Galran translated to something like _hearty warrior_ but in Lance’s opinion translated to _cowardly waste of space_ —merely barked out a laugh and didn’t just point the barrels at his face, but used them to push his helmet off.

_Cool._

Lance flinched when the cold metal of the floor kissed his head, while the commander pressed down against his forehead with his gun, hard enough that there would undoubtedly be circles left behind, if there was a _Lance_ left behind after this.

“Perhaps other commanders would have fallen victim to a dig at their pride and honor, but I believe in something called _efficiency,_ Paladin.”

The gun whined to life, and Lance watched purple light wrap around the barrels in a stream before he closed his eyes with another sigh.

So this was how he would die: in a Galra prison ship, with thousands of volts to the head, surrounded by a commander and his soldiers, with his team wherever the hell they managed to get away to, all by his lonesome. Handcuffed, unable to fight back, on the _ground_ …

“Commander.”

The voice came not from the soldiers who brought Lance here, but from one of the others that had so far just been milling about the bridge.

Initially, Lance hadn’t taken particular notice of them—they wore nearly the same bulky, uncomfortable armor as the rest of the soldiers, even if the armor didn’t quite fit their shorter stature. Now, though, his eyes flicked to them again as they stepped forward. Unlike most of the other soldiers, though, their helmet covered their entire face and seemed to distort their voice. It came out muffled, deep and metallic.

The gun’s whining died down, and the light swirling around the barrels faded.

“Yes?” the commander demanded, turning his head toward the soldier.

The soldier hesitated; though Lance couldn’t see them, he felt their eyes upon him as their head tilted. Then their attention seemed to return to Commander Nollix.

“I don’t think we should kill this one just yet, no matter how…” Another glance at Lance, who pressed his mouth into a thin line, eyebrows knitting in both concern and irritation. “ _Annoying_ he can be.”

“And why not?”

The barrels of the gun pressed down even harder against Lance’s forehead, and Lance redirected his gaze to the ceiling.

_If you’re gonna have a full conversation, can you not do it like this?_

“…I’ve done extensive research on the Paladins,” the soldier said. “I’ve managed to gain an insider’s perspective, and I know that this one is underutilized in battle. Not only is he a tactician, but he carries with him most of the team’s secrets. In using him, we may be able to both taunt Team Voltron into a confrontation and acquire everything we need to know.”

Well, that was certainly a lot to pick through, and with his vision still a little unclear and head still foggy, Lance’s priorities went straight to _underutilized in battle_ and _tactician._

“So, you think I’m smart, huh?”

His filter was also a little broken.

Mostly he expected that the soldier would disregard him, or shoot him down immediately, but they just made a noise in the back of their throat. “If that’s what you want to believe I said, then be my guest.”

Even a little fucked-up and worse for wear, Lance noted something… _off_ about their statement. Just a little bit.

He couldn’t pin it down before the commander readjusted his stance. He glared at the soldier and then back at Lance, trigger finger twitching. Another burst of adrenaline shot through Lance’s veins, hot and disconcerting and, yeah, a little nauseating, now that the gravity of the situation was finally starting to settle on him. Not only had he just stared death in the face and hadn’t thought much of it, but _now_ it was between getting killed or being tortured for information.

Or maybe both.

Probably both.

_Cool cool cool._

He had to remind himself that it was him or the whole team—he had provided a distraction just long enough for the others to get away, and he’d known the risks when doing so.

He had maybe just been a little underprepared for the risks to hurt so much.

“If you have an insider’s perspective on the Paladins, what do we need him for?”

Honestly, Lance was just lucky Nollix wasn’t a trigger-happy commander like some of the others, even if he claimed to believe in efficiency, or whatever. Some of the others would have blown his head off by now just to prove a point, but Nollix still seemed hesitant, like maybe Lance _was_ a wealth of information that he just needed to crack.

“He’s the closest member of the team to all the rest. The information I managed to gather pales in comparison even to what little day-to-day things he’s picked up on,” the soldier went on.

It sounded…not as insulting as Lance expected.

_Who even are you?_

He had almost spoken out loud; his words made the journey from his brain all the way to the tip of his tongue, and then Lance clenched his teeth and kept his mouth shut. For one reason or another, this guy—this guy was stalling. Prolonging what Lance considered the inevitable. He’d never had a random soldier just—just _step in_ and tell their commanding officer not to kill him. Most of the time, the soldiers were the ones _doing the shooting_ , no more than mindless lackeys.

This one wasn’t so mindless.

_I don’t know what game you’re playing, but whatever it is, two can play at it._

“And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” Nollix asked the soldier. “For all I know, he could be the dumbest of the lot—”

“He’s far from it,” the soldier interrupted, words rushed. They leaned forward slightly, fists clenching at their sides like they were prepared to take a swing, before they sank back. “Voltron has…several brains, all of them practically experts in different areas. This one’s important—he’s got the team’s emotional intelligence, and he’s versatile. He rises up when the others fall short, and…” The soldier seemed to suck in a breath before adding, “Though he’s in the Red Lion now, he was first in the Blue Lion. He maintains the connection to both.”

Well.

“And wouldn’t that be all the more reason to kill him?”

“All the more reason to keep him alive!”

This soldier had to be watching Nollix’s trigger finger with the same intensity that Lance was, because this time, they threw up an arm, and even through their helmet, Lance could hear the way their voice nearly cracked.

“Voltron would fall to pieces without him, if he’s as important as you say,” Commander Nollix said. “No tactician? No one filling in the gaps? _And_ he has a connection to two Lions? I’m aware of the Voltron Bond, and I’m _certain_ that severing two connections at once would do a number to the remaining Paladins. As it is, there are only four left in their ranks. No fifth Paladin, no Voltron.”

The lights on the gun flared up again.

Lance screwed his eyes shut.

“If he dies, they’ll waste no time in looking for a replacement Paladin, and no time storming here in a rage to get revenge.” The soldier still spoke quickly, but this time dared to step forward, reaching out for Nollix’s arm. “If he’s kept alive, they’ll be blinded by their hope and come crashing in with a half-formed rescue mission—with no replacement, still unable to form Voltron. You can seize the Lions then, and once you have all the Paladins, you can…do away with them.”

Their voice faltered on that last sentence.

“How can you be so certain?”

“It’s happened before.”

_How the hell do you know that?_

Lance opened his eyes, squinting—neither the commander nor the soldier seemed to pay him any mind, and the other soldiers in the room were either zoned out in boredom, or utterly enthralled with the unfolding drama.

“The Black Paladin,” the soldier went on when Nollix didn’t speak, almost…not exasperated, although that was what Lance expected, but more…he guessed somber, was the best word to put to it. “There was a time when the Black Paladin was believed to be dead, and priority one was finding a new Black Paladin before resuming regular operations. If the Blue Paladin dies, the same will happen. The Paladins need to believe wholeheartedly that he’s alive, and they’ll come running. The best way to ensure that is to _keep_ him alive.”

Nollix didn’t answer right away, but the lights on the gun died down again.

Lance didn’t let himself relax.

“Paladin,” Nollix said, and peered down at him, “is that true?”

The quickest way to get himself killed was to deny it. It meant the soldier would probably go down with him, but Voltron’s inner workings remained mostly a secret. Confirming it would keep himself alive, keep this soldier—who, for whatever reason, was fighting for his life—alive, and absolutely jeopardize Voltron. But it also gave him a chance to make his way back to the team, and gave him a chance to take down Nollix so Voltron’s secrets never left his ship.

He wondered how understanding the others would be.

“It is,” he breathed out in defeat. “It’s true.”

“…Very well.”

Nollix drew his gun back. Holstered it. Snapped his fingers at the two soldiers who had brought Lance to the bridge.

“Get him into a cell. You—” and he pointed at the soldier who had argued with him, “—take his helmet and put it somewhere for safekeeping. Can’t let him keep his hands on that.”

Each of the soldiers nodded. Lance’s eyes tracked the one who had argued for him, who seemed to pause and study Lance while the other two soldiers grabbed his arms and yanked him off the floor. For a moment, neither lackey moved as the strange soldier leaned in, scrutinized Lance’s features, and then glanced back at the commander.

“Get someone to tend to his injuries; he’s more hurt than he’s letting on. He’d let a treatable wound kill him if it meant he wasn’t a burden.”

With that, they scooped up Lance’s helmet and walked away, while the other soldiers dragged Lance, still woozy and helplessly confused and on edge, off to the cell block.

* * *

Lance ended up passing out on the way there and woke up in a cold sweat some indeterminate amount of time later. With a jerk, he realized that he still didn’t have a full range of motion—his hands remained cuffed in front of him. On top of that, his armor was gone, leaving him in nothing but his flightsuit. Meanwhile, gauzy bandages had been wrapped around his limbs and torso, indicating that, true to the soldier’s advice, Nollix saw fit to give him some kind of medical treatment.

And speaking of the soldier, who the hell had _that been?_

The question burned in Lance’s mind, but thinking set his head spinning, and he didn’t feel like hurling his guts up in the middle of some dingy Galra cell on one of their prison ships. He would have called the ship unremarkable, one of thousands, perhaps millions in their fleets, and maybe it _had_ been. But now he was aboard, and just his _presence_ was enough to elevate the ship’s status. Considerably.

_I’m like a celebrity, but in the worst way possible._

With a groan that bordered on a growl of frustration, Lance pulled himself into a sitting position. He pressed his back to the wall and swept his eyes around the cell: standard-issue, nothing particularly suspicious-looking. Same gray walls. Same purple lights running around the room in strips near the ceiling. Same heavy slab of a door, with a rectangular slit at the top that would have functioned as a window if he could actually see out of it.

But he couldn’t—he couldn’t see out, and his captors couldn’t see in.

His eyes drifted to his handcuffs. Had the Galra not taken his armor, he could’ve summoned his bayard, shifted the form into a pistol, and shot off his cuffs. But such was not the case. He was, effectively, useless in his own escape.

_It happens. It happens, dude._ He had to remind himself of that from time to time. Shiro hadn’t escaped the Galra until he’d gotten help from a Blade. Keith hadn’t found the Blue Lion until the others came along with their various tricks and talents. Allura and Coran hadn’t woken up until the Blue Lion reentered the castle. Sometimes people needed help, a push or a shove in the right direction.

It would just be some time before his help came, was all.

Lance had just resigned himself to that fact when shuffling outside of his cell drew his attention. His eyes cut to the window—nothing still, except for the same sliver of silver ceiling. No shadows that he could see, and no light filtering in underneath the door to prove him wrong, but—

A knock sounded.

Several knocks, in fact. Some more drawn out than others. Gaps between them, where silence bled in, and then another series of the same knocks, almost like—a code? It was a pattern Lance didn’t fully register, and couldn’t. He waited for a third series in the silence that followed the second, but none came.

“Listen, pal,” Lance called after a moment, the sound of his voice echoing around him, sharpening his dull headache, “I don’t know why _you’re_ knocking on the door, when you’re the one who can open it.”

A pause, and then a loud sigh: “ _Idiot_.”

_This_ voice Lance recognized.

“Real nice of a guy who was calling me smart on the bridge a little while ago!” he retorted. “Who even are you?”

“That’s none of your concern,” the voice responded. Where Lance expected testiness, there was instead a note of… _sorrow?_ Regret? “Just be prepared. You’ve got two hours to get yourself together.”

“For what?”

When Lance voiced his question, the soldier had already started walking away; they paused in their steps at his question. In their hesitation to answer, Lance’s brain managed to latch onto something rather important.

“And you said _hours_. Not vargas, or whatever. Hours.”

There were probably cameras everywhere, and if Lance had truly been thinking clearly, maybe he would have kept his mouth shut. But as soon as the words tumbled out, his eyes shot wide, and he rocketed to his feet.

“ _No way._ Absolutely _not_.”

“Be quiet,” the soldier on the other side of the door snapped. “I was never here, _got that?_ I never said anything.”

“Kei—?”

“ _Shut. Up_.”

What Lance heard next was not footsteps taking off down the hall, but the door squealing as it opened, revealing indeed that same soldier from the bridge. Now that he was on his feet instead of lying on the floor, Lance saw that not only was the soldier short for Galra standards, but with their helmet on, they had barely an inch on him.

“I’m trying to keep your ass _alive_ , and you’re making it difficult,” the soldier said, stepping into the cell, stepping toward Lance. As they moved forward, Lance moved back until he was crowded into a corner. There, the soldier turned their head, taking in the room. They spared another glance at the open door, and, shoulders tensing when they saw that the hall remained empty, lifted their hands to their helmet. “I’d just appreciate a little _help_.”

A click.

Off the helmet came.

Lance stared, heart racing, chest aching, as dark hair fell about the soldier’s shoulders, speaking to months without proper care. New burn scars mottled his left cheek. But his eyes—they were undoubtedly the same. Same determination, same intensity.

Same half-annoyed, half-terrified set to his mouth and jaw, even if he wouldn’t talk about that second part.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Lance finally asked, and couldn’t help the way his voice cracked. “Y’know, if you’d just told me it was you—”

“I’m _on a mission!_ ” Keith threw his free hand up. “As it is, I’m already risking a lot—I was just—I was hoping you’d go with it—”

“Had I not been completely out of it on the bridge, I would have realized sooner. Your acting sucks,” Lance interrupted, bringing his cuffed hands up and wrapping them around Keith’s wrist, gently tugging it back down. His voice went quieter as he added, “I take it I’m not finding out about what all this is about right now?”

He flicked his eyes to Keith’s burn scar.

Keith winced.

“No,” he answered. “Not right now. I’m…” He scowled and set his helmet on the floor, and then dropped a bag from his shoulder. “I would’ve been here sooner, but I needed your escape with the team guaranteed. I couldn’t—I couldn’t just get you in a ship and gun it. We both would be dead right now. As it is, you should be dead. You—the timing of this…” Keith shook his head as he knelt down and rummaged around in the bag. “You got lucky.”

He rose back to his feet as soon as he found what he was looking for: not a key, but what looked like a pair of electrified pliers.

Lance eyed them as Keith gripped his wrist, steadied his hands, and then stuck the pliers between his set of cuffs, hovering over the bright pink chain of energy connecting them.

“Lucky almost feels like an understatement,” Lance said. “What are you…why? What was all that on the bridge? You—the team—”

Keith swallowed. Hard. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he snapped the connection between the cuffs with a low buzz. They fell to the floor, freeing Lance’s hands.

“I’ve been here for a while,” Keith said at last. “Kolivan never really gave me a time estimate, but the last time I talked to him, he kind of insinuated things were taking longer than they should’ve been, so I’m…still supposed to be here, gathering intel, sabotaging things from the inside. Nollix was never supposed to get that close to Voltron, and then he got _you_ …” He shook his head again. “He’s already suspicious of me. I figured if I could use that—if I could make it look like I’m a traitor to the Paladins, if I _gave up_ intel…” He lifted his eyes to Lance’s. “I swear, none of it is leaving this ship. I’m going to make sure of that.”

“What—?”

“Here.”

Keith stooped down to go back through the bag and took out Lance’s helmet first, followed by his bayard.

“The team is en route, and I’ve got Pidge patched in. She’s going to take down our security systems and sneak in with Green, while Shiro, Hunk, and Allura provide a distraction. And trust me, they didn’t—they didn’t abandon you. Things just got complicated, and retreat was the best solution, but they’re coming, okay?”

Keith held both items just out of Lance’s reach.

“Keith—”

“Tell me you understand that.”

“You were the one just lecturing me on how you’re short on time and shouldn’t be talking to me—”

“ _Lance_.”

“Okay, _fine_ , I understand. I wanted them to get away, anyway,” Lance said. He took his helmet first and put it on. When he reached for the bayard, though, he wrapped both hands around Keith’s, pinning him in place. “Now what’s this about not letting anything leave the ship?”

“Lance—”

“I know you have a mission, but I also _know you_. And the Blade’s stupid motto, or whatever.” He squeezed Keith’s hand, gaze softening. “Keith, please.”

Keith didn’t answer right away—he was too focused on the warmth of the hands clasped around his. They were steady, steady as always. That counter to his chaos, the stability to his spiraling.

“I was going to make the call for early extraction,” Keith said at last. “Except the window of time is tight, I don’t know if the Blades will be able to get here before the ship…” He trailed off with an almost glazed look in his eyes.

“So you’re going to be stupidly self-sacrificing, is what I’m hearing,” Lance said, grip tightening just slightly on Keith’s hands.

Keith glared. “Pot. Kettle.”

“I’m only stupidly self-sacrificing when I don’t see another way out. _You’ve_ got another way out, dude.” When Keith didn’t reply, Lance let out an exasperated breath. “Hello? _Voltron?_ Just come with us—”

“I can’t.” It escaped Keith in a hurried breath, eyes shining insistently as he looked at Lance, muscle in his tightened jaw feathering.

“What do you mean you _can’t?_ ” Lance asked, and then, after a beat of silence: “ _Keith_.”

“I can’t,” Keith repeated more quietly, eyes falling back to their clasped hands. “I can’t, okay? I can’t—”

“You’ve said that _four times_ now,” Lance interrupted. “An argument would be nice any time you’re ready.”

“It would put Voltron in even greater danger,” Keith said in a rush. “If I go with you—if they find out that the person who infiltrated their ship is with the Paladins—”

Lance sighed. “Keith, I hate to break it to you, but we already have huge targets on our backs. We’re _literally_ public enemy number one—”

“Nollix is more dangerous than anyone realizes,” Keith cut him off. “ _Ruthless._ Arguing with him for your life was a shot in the fucking _dark_ , okay? And I took it because _I couldn’t let you die._ If Nollix finds out that not only had I gotten information on him, but then I _gave it to Voltron?_ If he finds out I’m _with_ Voltron? The pursuit will never end. You guys have already—you already had to retreat, you already almost—”

Keith’s voice pitched up, breath catching in his throat. He closed his eyes.

“You almost died, Lance. Can you just—he almost—you—and I— _he was going to blow your brains out_. And I—I don’t…”

“Keith.” Lance’s voice softened as he gently pried the bayard from him. He set it down on the floor, and then lifted Keith’s hand to his chest, splaying his fingers out over the space above his heart. “I’m here, okay? Brains are still in my head.” His voice tripped—just slightly, but enough for Keith to notice. “No more thinking about that.”

He reached a hand for Keith’s and laced his fingers between Keith’s trembling ones.

“I can tell you right now, if I get out of here and leave you behind, you’ll die,” Lance went on. “You go with the ship, or Nollix does to you what he was gonna do to me. I can’t let that happen.”

“Lance—” Keith cut himself off when he raised his head and took in Lance’s face: the hard set to his jaw, the steely glint in his eyes and the softness underneath, the distress lines creasing his skin. This Lance, this exhausted but determined Lance, appeared more than Keith ever wanted to see.

“I can’t let it happen, and neither can the team. Believe what you want, but we _miss you_. All of us. We’re worried, you know? Every time we go weeks, even _months_ without hearing from you…the only consolation we have is that we’re not getting a call from Kolivan telling us that…” Lance swallowed. “Telling us that something bad happened. I know for a fact that we’d rather _all_ be on the run from someone like Nollix than leave you to die.”

“But—”

“No. _You’re not expendable._ I’m so—” Lance grunted in frustration. “I respect the Blades. I’m grateful for what they’ve done for us, and I’m glad you’re—you’re doing something that makes you happy, but _fuck them_. Fuck them for making you believe that. _Knowledge or death_ , mission over member? _Bullshit_. I respect your choices, Keith, but not at the cost of your life. I’ll drag you out of here kicking and screaming before I leave you behind.”

_Kicking and screaming._

Other missions, other members, other last-ditch efforts, other failures.

Other deaths, other knowledge preserved.

Other disbelieving looks when he came back bruised, beaten, scratched and scorched, but standing—swaying—on two feet.

It had taken days for Keith to look his fellow Blades in the eyes again, and not for lack of his own trying—they kept theirs down, turned away whenever Keith entered the room. A dead man walking; he’d had one foot in the grave, and while they hadn’t pushed him in, they hadn’t helped him out, so he had clawed his own way to his escape.

_You’re not expendable._

Keith swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I can handle it,” he said in a voice more choked than he would have liked. “You don’t—”

“Don’t you _you don’t need to worry about me_ me.” Lance squeezed his hand. “You know exactly how we work, and that isn’t it.”

His hard expression vanished. He tilted his head again, weak smile coming over his lips, eyes softening. Keith had seen the look a thousand times, mostly through blurry eyes, and this time was no different. Nor any different was the way his heart slowed down from its rapid pounding, the way he felt the coiled springs of his muscles relax, the way he stepped forward until his face found Lance’s shoulder, and Lance’s one arm found his back, his other hand still pressing Keith’s hand to his heart.

“You’re coming back with me, alright?” Lance whispered. “The Blades can pick you up from the castleship once we’ve handed Nollix’s ass to him on a silver platter, garnish and all.”

Keith blew a breath out through his nose—a light, amused snort. Leave it to Lance.

“Alright. I’ll come with you,” Keith mumbled back to him.

There was no use fighting with him, and Keith supposed that maybe Lance’s argument held some weight—it would be much easier to get back to the Blades in one of the castle’s stealth ships rather than trying to steal one from the Galra, and easier to willingly leave the team than to try and escape from someone like Nollix undetected, all by his lonesome.

“Good.” Keith heard the smile in his voice as Lance spared a moment to kiss Keith’s temple. “Now, do you have my armor, too? As stunning as I look in space spandex—”

* * *

“So, a former Paladin _and_ a Blade…”

Commander Nollix wasn’t stupid.

He had sensed something off about the soldier from day one. They had shown up on the rotation out of nowhere, acting like they’d been there the whole time. Nollix would give them credit—they played their part well. They knew the inner workings of the ship, knew the schedule, knew the rules. They obeyed orders without a second thought, mostly. A little quicker on their weapon than the other soldiers, though. Shorter. Tended to favor the use of a blade in combat, when Nollix knew all of his subordinates were trained primarily to handle guns—any blades were always meant as a last-resort and used almost exclusively by elite fighters.

He stared at the feed from another soldier now, watching as this _Keith_ helped the Paladin back into their armor.

Freed. Protected. Re-armed.

“Don’t kill them yet,” Nollix ordered. “I think we’ll let them taste a bit of freedom first. I’ll be ordering all of the hangars locked down, though, and preparing for a counterattack against the remaining Paladins. Only four Lions will be arriving—forming Voltron is an impossibility. It will be easy work from there.”

The Green One was patched into their systems? Not a problem.

_Green. The inquisitive one. Outside of the Black Paladin, the Green Paladin often serves as Voltron’s brain, in addition to being the left hand._

Nollix had done his research, had been preparing for and anticipating this confrontation from the moment he had earned the rank of Commander, had been _looking forward to it._ The way he saw it, other commanders under the Empire had shirked one of their most important duties: taking down the Paladins. Others sought only to glorify themselves through conquest, elevate their names through the destruction of people who refused the Empire’s rule. But those people rebelled because of _hope._ Because they awaited their leonine saviors.

But what would they hope for if Voltron was destroyed?

_“So what do you want me to do?”_ the soldier asked quietly, almost timidly, over their communicator.

“Let them believe they’ve evaded their demise for now. We’ll strike when the time is right,” Nollix responded, gazing out at his soldiers from his command deck.

They would strike, and they would show no mercy.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading, this will get a follow-up....eventually
> 
> i now have a backlog of oneshots that need follow-ups, am also doing fic requests, and soopits is still a thing!! if you're reading soopits, i promise i haven't abandoned it, i've been working on the next chapter this week, it's just a very complicated part of the fic and my writing inspiration/energy has been. low. as it was i wrote the bulk of this back in february and it's been sitting in my docs since
> 
> also, there's a lot going on in the world right now, i've mostly been active on twitter
> 
> educate yourselves + stay safe out there + take care <3


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